Devoted
by Vicky-V
Summary: Doctor BriefsxMrs Briefs. Behind every successful man there is a very patient woman. One shot.


**Pairing:** Doctor BriefsxMrs Briefs  
**Rating:** G  
**Warning:** -  
**Word count:** 1,096  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with the characters used in this fanfiction.

**Devoted**

Not once had she complained. At least he didn't recall that she ever had.

Doctor Briefs found himself contemplating his wife and marriage one evening in his laboratory. He wasn't working on any large project as he didn't have any planned. All he was doing was a bit of what he liked to call random tinkering. That gave his mind a chance to wonder.

Or, in this case, it had been his eyes. As he had tossed a small piece of machinery between the palms of his hands, his eyes had fallen upon the mug sitting amongst the papers and coffee rings on his desk. There was a simple picture on that mug, (somewhat worn with age), of two swans. Their necks were bent and their beaks met to form the shape of a heart between them.

It had been a Valentines gift years ago. Or was it for his birthday? Perhaps Christmas? Doctor Briefs found that he couldn't quite remember.

He was a practical man. It was a quality needed to oversee the running of the most successful company in the world. That was why he put it down to the late hour when he started to think about the faded picture of the swans and hoping that it wasn't a representation of his marriage.

His wife was what many would call a simple woman. She was content to spend all day tending to her large gardens, singing rather badly as she went. He had often gone to his kitchen for a well-earned cup of tea to glance out of the window and see her swirling around with a watering can clutched in one hand. She looked as though she was in her own little world and very happy to be there.

Doctor Briefs was often in his own world too. Whereas hers was a world of flowers, dancing and the latest events on the soap operas she followed, his was one of mechanics and invention. Now he wondered if he had become just a little bit too lost within it. Throughout all his success, she had always been there right behind him. Bringing him coffee long after night had fallen, just before she went to bed. Being the one who would listen attentively whenever he wanted to shout his success, mutter his stress or simply gibber in excitement about his latest idea. Looking after the many stray animals that he had taken in when his work meant that he just hadn't the time.

Come to think of it, there hadn't been a simple occasion when his wife hadn't been there with her encouraging smile and supporting touch.

"Meow!"

The demanding cry of the small black cat who usually sat on his shoulder took Doctor Briefs out of his musings. Scratch sat there on the desk in front of him, beside the mug with the fading picture of the two swans. He looked up at his owner with large yellow eyes and meowed again. Once more, it sounded somewhat demanding.

Doctor Briefs put the object of his random tinkering down and scratched the cat behind his ear. Soon there was the sound of soft purring but, although the cat's eyes were half closed, they had a look of seriousness.

"She was the one who found you, wasn't she old boy?" he told the little cat. "On her way home from shopping. She was all upset because some kid had run off with her handbag. Then she came across you. Made her day that did."

"Meow!"

"Then somehow you tagged yourself onto me. Don't appreciate her as much as you probably should."

"Meow!" Scratch gave him a very insulted look.

---

Mrs Briefs was puzzled when she was woken up at 7:10 in the morning to someone knocking on her door. No one usually knocked. They might ask if she was decent before entering, but they never knocked.

"Yes?"

Her husband poked his head around the door, a sheepish smile on his face. "Morning dear. Sleep well?"

"Yes," she nodded as she sat up, yawning and stretching her arms. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh no. I just ... well ... I made you breakfast in bed."

He entered the room at that point, holding a tray in his hands. Upon it was what Mrs Briefs assumed to be this breakfast. Only the toast was black around the edges. The cereal was topped with the sediments that always gathered at the very bottom of the packet. And she wasn't quite sure if that was scrambled egg on the plate or his latest attempt as making pancakes. At least the glass of orange juice looked okay.

Doctor Briefs saw her somewhat sceptical look and coughed. "Well ... perhaps next time I'll use the robots."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," she said. "Bring it here. I'm sure it will taste fine."

She had that encouraging smile on her face again. When the tray was set in front of her, she discovered that the unidentified food on the plate was indeed her husband's attempt at pancake making.

"It's fine," she smiled. It dropped a little when she looked up to see him standing awkwardly at her bedside. "Is everything okay?"

"It's ... well," he shifted a little bit and coughed again. "Did I ever tell you I loved you?"

"Must have done at some point," she giggled.

"I mean recently."

"Oh, honey," she said, putting down her fork. "Of course you do. It isn't always said with words you know."

Scratch chose that moment to jump down from Doctor Brief's shoulder and onto her lap. He curled up in the small space between her chest and the tray and purred softly.

"For example," she continued. "Do you remember why you started taking in all those stray animals?"

"I know I have a liking for them. And so do you."

"Yes. And it was right after we found this little guy," she started to scratch the small cat behind one ear. "Ever since then you've been taking so many in. You've such a big heart like that. And I know you work hard to keep our family well. You share your ideas with me. You've even made me this breakfast, knowing that you can't cook very well. That says 'I love you'."

"Meow," came a soft cry.

Doctor Briefs nodded. "I suppose it does."

"Now you go to bed early tonight. These late nights aren't doing you much good, especially as you're getting older."

"Yes dear."

"Good," she chuckled and picked up her fork again. "Want some pancake?"

Doctor Briefs smiled. "Sure."

_**END**_


End file.
